Last Days, New Beginnings
by CarolynneRuth
Summary: He knew it had to end here. And where else but on the fields of Trenzalore just as Dorium had prophesied a hundred years ago. He was supposed to be a goner but always a twist at the end, that was his life after all.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **I had this little idea rambling about in my brain and thought I would put it out there. If you would like me to continue, if you think it's any good please leave a review and let me know. Enjoy!

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_**Prologue - The Fall of the Eleventh**_

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He knew it had to end here and where else but on the fields of Trenzalore just as Dorium had prophesied a hundred years ago. He'd lived a long time, too long. Seen too much blood, so many dead and yet he survived, always surviving. Everything he'd once held dear and precious to him long gone and the loneliness was like a ravenous pit. He wanted to fall into it, forget he'd ever existed and never feel pain or loss again.

"Come on," he yelled, holding his arms out wide, "take me."

The question had been answered, it was over, what else was left and the fields before him were turning into an icy wasteland, soon he would cease to exist. He welcomed death. No one to save him this time, he'd made sure of that. There was no more River. His time with her was over. He'd taken her to the singer towers of Darillum and that had been heart breaking. He'd tried to hide his tears from her but failing. How did he tell someone he loved that the next time they would see him, he wouldn't know her and she would die alone, the Doctor she loved a stranger to her and just that thought, ate away at him. He had put if off for as long as he could but the fields of Trenzalore were waiting for him and it was time for him to say goodbye to River, his last time with her.

It was definitely over. He was tired of fighting, even tired of winning, what was the point when it always meant he was to be alone.

"Take me!"

His voice carried on the fierce winds swirling around him. The ground gave way beneath his feet. It was a spectacular fall. He'd never fallen so far or so hard and pain shot through his body, agonising, a thousand knives stabbing him.

And then there was silence.

He couldn't feel but his conscious was still here. The memories floated through his mind, like a film in rewind.

_The last time I saw you, the real you, the future you, I mean - you turned up on my doorstep, with a new haircut and a suit. You took me to Darillium to see the singing towers. Oh, what a night that was! The towers sang, and you cried._

River.

Amy and Rory.

Everyone to come before, everything he'd ever lived for, everyone he'd saved and the people who had saved him.

"River," he whispered.

He still had a voice.

He couldn't be dead. Not yet.

His eyes opened and he stared up at the dark sky, the icy wind swirling above him.

He was alive, the bitter irony.

Broken; his body shattered but not dead. He couldn't feel, couldn't move and that could only mean one thing. His neck was broken.

He couldn't even click his fingers to summon the tardis. Not that it would do him any good if he couldn't move his body to get back inside of it.

And too cold for him to regenerate. It was 20 below zero Celsius. He estimated that he had five minutes left if that. Too long really, too many memories, memories he clung to. All he had left.

He let out a mirthless laugh. "So you got me in the end."

He shut his eyes, waited for death to claim him. A silent tear tracked its way down his frozen face.

'_I'll suffer if I have to kill you.'_

'_More than every living thing in the universe?'_

'_Yes.'_

He held onto the memory of her, the smell of hair, the way it felt in his hands, the love for him that shone in her eyes, River, Melody Pond, the child of the tardis, the child of Amy and Rory, the woman who married him, the woman who died for him.

_And you are forgiven. Always and completely forgiven._

Yes he would die with her being his last thought, his last memory ... but ... there was sound, other than the wind. And he knew that sound, loved that sound and slowly turning his head he saw his tardis materialize in front of him.

"Too late old girl," he murmured through frozen lips, "I'm done for, can't move, you'll have to find yourself another mad man to steal you ..." The words fell away when he saw the tardis door open and a figure of a person appeared.

No, not possible. No one knew he was here. He'd made sure of that, no one else was going to die for him.

The figure of the person walked towards him but he couldn't identify them in their attire, rugged up to brace the cold.

Whoever it was they kneeled down beside him.

"Forget it, I can't move, my neck is broken," he croaked.

He thought he glimpsed compassion in the eyes that stared back at him, eyes he did but didn't know. They didn't speak, put a brace around his neck and placing their arms under his arms dragged him into the tardis.

It didn't matter. It was too late but better to die in the tardis, with his sexy than on the frozen plains of Trenzalore, what was left of them.

Who was this person? How did they know he would be here? So many questions, but the light was fading before his eyes. His body was frozen.

"Regenerate," the voice of the masked person insisted.

"C-Can't, t-too cold," he stuttered.

His eyes closed and he waited for death to claim him. He could feel it, any moment now ... a big thick doona was placed over him and his eyes shot open. He watched the person dispense of their coat and scarf and beanie and he knew who it was, but no, not possible, it couldn't be.

"Rory," he croaked.

"I hoped I was better looking," the person returned wryly, "guess you can't help what you get in the gene pool."

He was confused. The person lay down next to him, wrapped themselves around his numb frozen body, pulling the doona around them.

"W-What are you doing?"

"It's called body heat Doctor."

Already he could feel the warmth tingling through his veins.

"But this could kill you."

The person yawned as if this experience wasn't new to them. "Don't worry I'll know when to pull away."

Who the hell were they? So many questions and now no time to ask them.

"I think you should start concentrating on your new face, just don't make it too different Doctor."

He heard the catch in their voice. Did he know this person, this sort of look-a-like Rory but not Rory but someone who obviously knew a lot about him?

"W-who are ..."

Sharp sudden pain filled his body and he grimaced. This pain he was familiar with, this pain he knew all too well.

He was going to regenerate.

"Move away," he hissed, "it's starting."

The young man scuttled back and the Doctor shut his eyes, clenched down with his teeth, braced himself for what he knew would come. All the memories rushing around his head, faster and faster, he was no longer able to hold them. Pain racked his body. His arms and legs stretched out stiffly, gold light escaped from his fingers and then the sudden bright light engulfed him and everything around him. And then he fell into darkness and remembered nothing.

Maybe he was dead after all.

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**A/N: BTW this story is not intended to be an angst story, just this prologue. After all the Doctor has to regenerate and that always seemed a painful process for him when watching the series.**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter One. Regeneration, New Rules and New Twists**_

Hazy images swirled around his brain. He was somewhere, it was warm and his body didn't ache nearly as much as it did. Something bad had happened, something really bad but he just couldn't quite piece the scattered memories together, not yet.

His body was healing. Had he been sick? And how sick? Bad enough to regenerate? Nooo ... regenerate ... wait ... had he?

"Doctor?"

A single lone voice, a questioning worried voice and he couldn't tell if it were male or female.

"Come back Doctor, I need you."

They sounded pleading, desperate almost and strangely familiar.

"River," he managed to croak.

Wait, River, River who? The name roused something deep within. A memory so strong it made his gut hurt. Flashes of a woman with long beautiful curly hair flashed through his head. She was strong, amazing and she knew far too much about him, knew how to fly the Tardis too, no one should know that ... River ... who was she again. It was there within his grasp only he couldn't quite get it. Maybe he didn't want to remember, it hurt, pain back there, pain he didn't want to feel.

His mouth felt dry. He needed something, not sure what, something that would make him feel better, help the regeneration along, something like ...

"Tea," he croaked this time.

He heard someone's footsteps approaching and the next thing he knew warm sweet tea was slowly being poured into his mouth. He coughed and spluttered and managed to swallow some. But it did the trick. He could feel warmth spread through his body, the strength returning to his limbs and clarity to his scattered, disjointed thoughts.

His eyes sprung open and he gazed up at the familiar roof of his precious Tardis.

Instant relief hit him square in the guts. He was home, he was alive and hell but he had regenerated. Raising his hands the Doctor looked at them.

"Hands," he spoke in wonderment, "I have hands, just as well, would be useless without those."

He sat up quickly causing the boy to move back startled, and ran a hand through his hair. Still on the longish side but he had hair, that was relief, glad he wasn't bald. He fought back the sudden wave of dizziness, ran his tongue over his teeth, still there, still all intact.

"I have teeth!"

He glanced down at his legs, raised one then the other, still on the skinny side but they worked, they were moving. He turned his head from side to side, ran a hand up the back of his neck. Okay so far all good. Even his head was beginning to make sense of the fragmented memories. The fields of Trenzalore had fallen and he was supposed to fall with it, if it wasn't for ... he glanced at his rescuer with renewed interest. The Rory look alike and the memories of Amy and Rory erupted in his head causing it to hurt once again. He rubbed his forehead as other memories burst forth crowding his mind in an attempt to be remembered. It all came tumbling back, all of it, even the memories of River, their last time together, well his last time and the fields where it all ended, where his time should have ended.

Only it hadn't. And he didn't know what to think of it.

Hadn't he done enough? How much more did he have to do, wasn't he done with saving the world? He'd given his whole life, never really having one of his own.

And here he was, again, alive.

He glanced back at the boy. Now he was better again and seeing clearly, there really was only a passing resemblance to Rory. The boy was lanky, painfully thin actually, maybe no more than 16 years of age. He was staring at him in fascination. The Doctor was familiar with that look.

He cleared his throat. "Well," he began, "how do I look?"

A slight frown crossed the boy's face. "Much the same."

The Doctor frowned in response. "Really?"

"Only older."

The Doctor's frown intensified. "You mean I'm an old man now?" he croaked.

He hadn't been old in a long time.

A slight amused smile crossed the boys face. "No. Just older."

"Older!" he grimaced, "How much older?"

The boy raised an eyebrow. "I dunno, maybe 40, 45, 50 ..."

"You can stop there," the Doctor interrupted, feeling much chagrined.

"Older," he muttered under his breath, "hmmph."

"Makes you look fatherly," the boy added.

"Fatherly! What!"

The boy's smile widened. "I guess it's the grey hair."

Well that was enough, fatherly huh no way, okay so he was a sort of makeshift grandfather, once, long ago but still this ... this ... hell he'd just have to see for himself. Pushing the covers aside he managed to scramble to his feet and staggered to the mirror that hung precariously on the console.

He didn't particularly like mirrors. This one seemed to distort his features. He peered at his reflection and the boy was right. He really didn't look any different, same face, same nose, same big ears and same floppy hair that definitely had some grey streaks in it. Leaning forward he peered closer at his reflection and touched the grey hair, frowning.

"I don't understand," he murmured.

He should have a brand new face, not just an older one and he was still gangly. Pity he didn't picture muscles when he was regenerating, he mused wryly and ran a hand over his chin. He looked back at his reflection, there were newer lines on his face that hadn't been there before but that was all, all that had changed is that he'd aged maybe 10 or 15 years. Weird, odd, never had this happen to him before.

"I don't understand Doctor," the boy spoke from behind, "why haven't you changed faces?"

The Doctor looked thoughtfully at his reflection.

"Of course," he murmured softly, "last regeneration."

Last regeneration, he'd used his last regeneration ... that had to be it. He ran a hand over his face, didn't know what to think. He'd never contemplated getting this far to use up all his regenerations. River had used up all her regenerations to save him, then died for him. _That's what he had lost; her. _And here he was, still alive. He shut his eyes and shook his head, his hearts beat so hard, they ached. He got lost in the memories, forgetting everything around him.

"Doctor," the boy spoke, "Are you alright Doctor?"

The boy sounded hesitant, worried.

The Doctor cleared his throat. "Yeah I think so."

He turned slowly and looked at the boy. Just who was he and how had he found him? It wasn't possible. It shouldn't be but ... here he was.

He could see the boy begin to squirm under his intense gaze.

"How did you know I was here?" he asked.

The boy reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a letter.

"From this," he began, handing the letter to him.

The Doctor took the letter and gazed down at the words scribbled there, words that blurred before his eyes. He rubbed his eyes and looked again.

"I can't bloody well read it," he muttered, "what's wrong with my eyes?"

"Um well Doctor maybe now you've got older you might need reading glasses."

The Doctor scowled at the boy. "What! No! I don't need glasses."

The boy giggled a rather high pitched giggle and the Doctor rounded on him. The boy stepped back and brought a hand up to his mouth. The Doctor peered closely into his face, suspiciously.

"You giggle like a girl," he pointed out.

And now that he looked closely, really closely the boy didn't have manly features. Yeah the kid was skinny, like he'd been, gangly sort of, and those eyes ... reminded him of Rory, but the nose, well the nose wasn't as big as Rory's, more like River's, sort of, and the lips were fuller, feminine. Then his eyes rested on the hair, light brown, cut short like a boys and they were dressed like a boy and there was definitely no shape to their figure but then they, whoever this person was, were thin as a bean pole easy enough to disguise in the proper boy attire.

"You're a girl," he said in a low, incredulous voice.

The person, girl, boy, whatever they were eyes widened in shock and they ran a nervous hand up the back of their neck.

The Doctor cocked his head to one side and continued to study this person, his rescuer.

"Caught you out have I?"

She bit down on her lip. "Okay so what if I am," she returned, a flash of defiance in her eyes.

For a moment the Doctor didn't know what to say, his eyes raked over her face again. Who was she? He noticed the colour creep into her cheeks, could see she was suddenly awkward under his close perusal.

"Why would you pretend to be a boy?" he asked at length, curiously.

Sighing heavily, the girls shoulders sagged and she glanced away. "It's a long story Doctor," she replied looking somewhat sad and defeated.

And she was a complete enigma to him. His curiosity was well and truly aroused.

"Well I've got time, nothing planned, silence has fallen and everyone probably thinks I'm dead and well I've now got all the time in the world," he rattled off.

The girl chewed her bottom lip, looking worried, unsure. He took a step closer towards her, till his face was only inches from hers.

"Who are you?" he whispered, "and how did you find me?"

Her eyes darted away from his but the Doctor would get answers because she puzzled him to no end and there was this odd uncertainty gnawing away in the pit of this stomach. Something not right about her and this whole surreal situation happening.

She glanced back at him, swallowed.

"Okay," she murmured, "I will tell you."

Now that she was no longer trying to sound like a boy, she definitely had a feminine voice and that voice, well that voice caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up.

"Doctor," she began slowly, hesitantly. "You might want to sit down first."

The Doctor frowned, surely there was nothing out there left to shock him. He'd seen it all and heard it all and at times it had even made him doubt his own sanity.

"Seriously Doctor, you'll want to be sitting down," she insisted, eyes blazing and deep in their depths there was something else, fear and uncertainty.

It was enough to make him do as she said and he settled back on his favourite chair, placing the letter she had given him in his shirt pocket. He'd read it later, once he found some reading glasses that was.

"Okay so spill the beans," he began, crossing his legs, "miss disguised as a mister, who the hell are you and how did you end up in my Tardis?"

He rested his hands on his knees and looked up at the girl.

"Your Tardis?" she returned airily, raising an eyebrow, "for your information Doctor your Tardis found me, opened its door to let me in and then I suddenly find myself able to fly her."

The hairs on the back of his neck stook up and he frowned.

"Not possible," he stammered and he can't think straight for the blood rushing to his head.

"You'd have to be ..." he swallowed, "you'd have to be a ..."

"A time lord," she finished for him.

His head shot up.

She smiled a little, secretively. He observed the arrogance in her stance, something all young time lords seemed to have.

He ran a hand over his face.

"No, no, no, you can't be," he stressed with a dramatic wave of his hand, "how is that possible?"

She gave him an even look, her lips trembled slightly but he can see her suck it up.

"My name is Amelia, Amelia Smith," she spoke at length, "I'm named after my grandma."

He found it hard to breathe. "Amelia," he sighed heavily and looked across the Tardis, "Amelia Pond."

The girl who had waited, he mused whimsically, his Amelia Pond. Only this girl was not the Amelia he knew, even if she was her ... he glanced back at the girl, her granddaughter. He blinked.

"Y-You're Amelia's granddaughter."

She nodded. He leaned back, cocking his head to one side to study her and mixed emotions assailed him. Unbelievable! Amelia's granddaughter in his Tardis, Amelia's granddaughter saving him for one last time and he can feel a smile cross his tired face but this was the best news he'd had in a long while.

"A-And my mother Doctor..." her voice broke off there and she ran a hand through her hair making it stick up, before dropping her hand and meeting his eyes. She looked really scared now, or maybe just unsure.

She swallowed. "My mother is River Song."

She was right. He really did need to be sitting down. Oh River, River, his River ... she had a baby! When?

"B-But how?" he croaked.

"How else Doctor," Amelia returned, rolling her eyes.

Of course, sex, well he didn't like to think about River having sex, unless it was with him and even thinking that made him feel all flustered.

"B-But she never told me ..." his voice broke off there.

Why hadn't she? That explained a lot of things about this girl, her resemblance to Rory, why she could fly the Tardis, why she was able to find him ... He glanced up at her in wonder.

She shoved her hands in her pockets. He doesn't miss the sudden sadness in her blue eyes, eyes she averted from his.

"I was only a baby when she went missing," she began and oh lordy, but she really does sound like River, only younger.

It made him feel nostalgic for what he'd lost but by some chance, by a miracle, something, someone, a part of everything he'd held dear stood in front of him. River's daughter, Amelia and Rory's granddaughter ... unbelievable.

"She went out on an archaeology search and never returned," Amelia murmured softly, "she never returned from the library."

His heart's lurched into his throat, tears burned behind his eyes. He swallowed back the knot in his throat.

"I-I'm so ... sorry," he managed to get out in a hoarse voice.

Amelia shifted uneasily and the expression on her face had him immensely puzzled.

"I know you are Doctor and I know you did what you could to save her," Amelia replied with a catch in her voice, "but you'd never guess who my father is."

"Who?"

She finally turned her eyes to his, and she looked scared to death.

"You really are slow on the uptake sometimes Doctor," she murmured.

"Yeah well, busy day and all and then I went and regenerated," he mumbled.

Her expression softened.

"Well Doctor I hope you are ready for another big shock because it's you Doctor," she whispered "you are my father."

There was a loud ringing in his ears. He would have fallen off the chair if Amelia hadn't grabbed him by the shoulders with both her hands. She was surprisingly strong for such a thin girl but of course she was. If she was his daughter that meant she had to be part time lord, maybe even more and oh dear ... he had a daughter! River's daughter, their daughter!

She still had her hands gripping his shoulders, her face only inches from his and a worried, uncertain smile crossed her face.

"Hi Dad."

He froze and suddenly it felt like time had stopped.

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**A/N: Hope you liked. I know it's a little crazy and who knows where it's all going to end. Well I do, sort of. Let me know if you would like me to continue with this little story of mine. Feedback is very much appreciated. And I didn't have the heart to make the Doctor different so I just made him older and tried to come up with a viable reason as to why he didn't change face and last regeneration was the only thing I could think of. **

**Thanks for reading.**


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